


Crossing Lines

by KamiSamaNejiMaki



Category: Voltron: Legendary Defender
Genre: Angst, Angst and Hurt/Comfort, Angst with a Happy Ending, Anxiety, Depression, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Getting Help, Happy Ending, Hope, Hopeful Ending, Hurt/Comfort, Hyperventilation, Implied/Referenced Self-Harm, Inconsistant Narrator Keith, Keith's perspective, Kissing It Better, M/M, Mutual Pining, Numbness, One Shot, Panic Attacks, Pet Names, Self-Harm, Suicidal Thoughts, shiro loves you baby
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-09-10
Updated: 2019-09-10
Packaged: 2020-10-14 02:01:03
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,179
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20592809
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/KamiSamaNejiMaki/pseuds/KamiSamaNejiMaki
Summary: Keith is creating crossed lines on his skin.  Shiro is willing to cross lines to help Keith.Excerpt:There are so many things that Keith wants to do in that moment — calm his breathing, turn away from the door, unbunch his sleeves to cover the lines littering his forearms, put on his headphones so he has an excuse for not answering, look busy — anything but stand stock still as the doorknob turns and Shiro opens the door.  And yet.Shiro’s eyes catalogue everything in a matter of seconds and he closes the door behind him with a soft click.“Keith…”  Shiro breathes and it’s the breathy concern in Shiro’s voice that pains Keith the most. More than the welts lining his arms.  More than the throbbing in his hip.  Shame wells up hot and fast, burning the back of Keith’s eyes.As much as he wishes he could, Keith can’t make Shiro unsee him like this.





	Crossing Lines

**Author's Note:**

> I dedicate this story to the people who are looking for a sign that things can and will get better.
> 
> This is it.
> 
> Please enjoy the fic and read the notes at the end of the story.

_Thwip.Thwip.Thwip._

The repeated snapping carves out a rhythm, the repetition aiding to both soothe and fray the edges of Keith’s sanity.It’s calming, not having to think about the act of pulling back the black hairband on his wrist and then letting it snap back into place before repeating the process again, over and over.There’s a certain agony around whether or not to do it in the first place, but once the first red line appears on his wrist and it smarts, it becomes automatic.

_Thwip.Thwip.Thwip._

There’s no going back now; he’s already slipped.Why stop now before he can reap the full satisfaction of the act if he already knows he’s going to feel the full shame afterwards?

_Thwip.Thwip.Thwip._

It hurts, but not the way his heart does when his mind runs wild, angry and raging, accusing him of what he already knows is true. 

That he’s weak.

_Thwip._

That he’s a burden.

_Thwip._

That he’s feral, more animal than human, more willing to bite than to talk.

_Thwip.Thwip.Thwip._

That no one wants to deal with a wild animal.

_Thwip._

That animals like him die alone.

_Thwip._

That he has brought this upon himself, just like every red welt criss-crossing his forearms.

_Thwip._

Crying doesn’t even cross Keith’s mind.Neither does checking his phone, which had been vibrating atop his bed a few minutes ago.Getting it feels like a Herculean task, since that would require picking up his tired body off the floor.It’s not exactly the most comfortable place to be laying, but that’s the least of Keith’s concerns.Besides, animals belong on the floor.

_Thwip._

Keith pauses, sliding the hair tie up his wrist so he can admire his work.It’s beautiful, in a twisted way, the streaks of rosiness that have bloomed on his skin.A few are even slightly raised and Keith can’t help but run the tips of his fingers over them, marveling at the sting.

It’s nice, he thinks, to feel something.

He notices that some of the marks near his right wrist are getting faint, so he switches his hair tie over to his right hand and goes back to marking himself up.

_Thwip.Thwip.Thwip.Thwip.Thwip._

There’s a knock on the door, disrupting the mindless rhythm and startling Keith out of his inflamed skin with a gasp.

“Keith?”

It’s Shiro. 

Keith’s heart threatens to beat out of his chest, overwhelming in the silence that has suddenly sucked all of the air out of his small, single dorm room.Keith holds deathly still and forces his breathing to go shallow, hoping that if he’s quiet enough, Shiro will think he’s out right now, studying in the library or training at the gym.He doesn’t want Shiro to see him like this; he _can’t_ let Shiro see him like this.He can’t, he can’t, _he can’t_.

“Keith?Keith, I know you’re in there.I heard sounds coming from the other side of the door.”

Keith curses internally, his brain overwrought with a chorus of “shit,” echoing in his panic-fueled mind as he forces himself to stand up.Distantly, he registers that his head feels weird and it isn’t until his hip aches in a way that screams of impending bruise that he realizes that he stumbled into the corner of his desk.He plants his hands on the hard wood, forcing himself to breathe through the throbbing pain.Focusing on his breath clears the dark waves lapping at the edges of his vision and tunes him into the fact that a) he was hyperventilating and b) that Shiro is saying that he’s coming in.

There are so many things that Keith wants to do in that moment — calm his breathing, turn away from the door, unbunch his sleeves to cover the lines littering his forearms, put on his headphones so he has an excuse for not answering, look busy — anything but stand stock still as the doorknob turns and Shiro opens the door.And yet.

Shiro’s eyes catalogue everything in a matter of seconds and he closes the door behind him with a soft click.

“Keith…”Shiro breathes and it’s the breathy concern in Shiro’s voice that pains Keith the most. More than the welts lining his arms.More than the throbbing in his hip.Shame wells up hot and fast, burning the back of Keith’s eyes.

As much as he wishes he could, Keith can’t make Shiro unsee him like this.

“I… I’m sorry…”Keith whispers, ducking his head and hiding his face behind his long bangs.Holds his breath, waiting for the verbal lashing he deserves.

“For what?”

That’s not what Keith was expecting, but the answer appears in his mind unbidden all the same.

_I’m sorry for being such a burden, a weakling, a disappointment, a coward, a fake…_

The words are lodged in his throat, clamoring for attention, for a chance to escape.They don’t.They just sit there and make the meager air Keith is taking in whistle on its way by.Panic claws at the edges of his consciousness, shredding the edges bit by bit by bit by bit by—

“-eith.Keith!Baby, I need you to _breathe_ for me.”

A hand on his bicep brings him back to the present.Steadies him while he sucks in stale air too quickly and his knees threaten to collapse.The world tilts and blurs, his face mushing into warm muscle, firm and sure unlike him.He’s weak right now, at arguably the worst possible moment since _Shiro_ is here.Shiro, who means the _world_ to Keith, his best friend and crush, his dream of impossible dreams, who’s now calling him baby and shushing his pathetic crying and—

That snaps Keith out of his train of self-deprecating thoughts.

“That’s it, baby.Shhhh, I’ve got you.Steady breaths now.In and out, easy peasy sweetheart.It’s going to be okay.I’m here now.You’re safe with me.”

When you drop a baby, there’s this pregnant moment between impact and the outburst.The calm before the storm.It takes a moment for everything to catch up and the shock to wear off before the baby starts crying like there’s no tomorrow. Later, Keith will put together the comparison himself.Right now he’s too focused on the way that his stomach drops down to his feet even as his heart tries to escape out his throat.Because this _can’t_ be happening.Not to him.Not from Shiro.And yet.

“That’s it, let it all out.You’re doing great; I know this is hard.Cry as much as you need to, we’ve got all the time in the world.”

Cry?Keith blinks hard and sure enough, the world comes back into focus as the tears melt away into Shiro’s shirt.For a moment, Keith is jealous of them for being able to be so close to Shiro and then fade from existence.They certainly don’t have to deal with the impending interrogation that he will.Oh fuck, how does he explain this—

A warm weight cups the back of his head, gently stroking the curling hairs at the base of his skull and scruffing his neck.That simple grip makes him feel small.Everything was spiraling out of control, a mess of emotions running over and wrecking havoc of everything, but Shiro.He holds Keith in the palm of his hand.With Shiro, he is contained.With Shiro, he is safe. 

Keith hiccups and clings onto Shiro like he’s the only thing keeping him in one piece.Given the way that he’s crumbling in his arms, there may be more truth in that comparison than Keith would like to admit.Shiro only hugs him back, wrapping his other arm around Keith’s waist.His prosthetic settles in the small dip perfectly, as if it were custom made for holding Keith closer to him.It’s a stupidly romantic thought, but it’s one Keith knows that he’ll cling to none-the-less. 

Keith only sobs once.It’s loud and raw and heart-wrenching.He hates the way that Shiro breathes out a small whimper on his next exhale.He doesn’t hate the way that Shiro holds him even tighter because of it.

As his crying trails off, Keith takes a few precious seconds to memorize this moment.He doesn’t want to leave Shiro’s protective embrace, but knows that he won’t be able to handle it if Shiro pulls away first.Keith forces himself to release his grip on Shiro even though it feels like a knife to the heart would have probably hurt less.Shiro’s arms leave Keith’s waist and back, but his hands catches Keith’s wrists before they completely detach from each other. 

Shiro thumbs over the black hair tie on Keith’s right wrist, rolling it back and forth a few times before slipping his thumb beneath the elastic and sliding it up and over Keith’s hand.The movement grows clumsy, but Shiro manages not to entirely let go of his hand as he frees Keith of the wretched band, letting it fall to the floor unceremoniously. 

“Much better.”Shiro smiles softly, cupping Keith’s forearm in his hand, being careful not to touch the crossing lines decorating the fragile skin on the inside of Keith’s arm.

“May I?”Shiro asks, his gaze soft and enquiring, flicking from Keith’s arm to his face.

Keith nods.He trusts Shiro, deeply.He would do anything Shiro asked him to do, especially if Shiro asks him looking like that, all warm affection and tenderness.

Keith allows his arm to be pulled away from him.He’s expecting the way that Shiro runs his eyes over the ghosts of the band’s impact.He is not expecting the way that Shiro slowly, tentatively even, brings his lips to one of the crossing lines.He kisses away the hurt with a touch so gentle that Keith could have convinced himself that it didn’t happen if not for the fact that he watched Shiro do it.Keith flinches, startled, and Shiro is quick to release both of Keith’s hands and create distance, looking spooked.

“Was— was that not okay?”Shiro questions, voice quiet and unsettled.

“No, no, no, it was fine, you’re fine, you didn’t do anything wrong!I just—Why?”

Shiro bites the inside of his lip, unaware of how the motion draws Keith’s eyes as he looks off to the side.

“I just… You’re hurt.And hurting.And when I was upset about my injuries as a little boy, my mother would kiss them better.It was an impulse.I’m sorry if I made you uncomfortable.” 

“Shiro, it’s fine.Really.”

“Thanks.”Shiro replies, making eye contact again.

There’s a pregnant pause.Shiro steps back into Keith’s space, slowly, like he’s giving Keith the chance to back away if he really wants to maintain the distance.He’s careful with Keith in a way that most people aren’t, probably because they notice the way Keith is quick to show his teeth.That kind of display usually makes people run away or lash back.Not Shiro.That’s why he’s still here.

“Will you talk to me?I know you don’t want me to, but I’m worried, Keith.Please, let me in.”

Keith pulls in his lips, considering the plead bleeding into Shiro’s voice, the unwavering tenderness, the way he’s treated Keith like he’s something precious, like he’s something worth protecting.When Shiro looks at him like that…

“Are you sure?It’s not pretty.I know that I’m broken and fucked up inside.Do you really want to deal with that?”Keith asks, voice wavering at the end, despite his best attempts to keep his voice strong.

Shiro looks down then, gathering Keith’s hands up in his own, gently squeezing.He comes half a step closer, planting himself firmly in Keith’s orbit, before he finally dares to make eye contact again.

“Keith.I want to help you.Even if that means seeing the ugly stuff.I care about you more than you know and I refuse to sit by and watch you suffer in silence if I don’t have to.Will you let me help you?”

Shiro is so sincere and open.His eyes sparkle with something akin to sad fondness, the skin between his eyebrows crumpled with concern.Keith is afraid that he’s hurting him, but then he takes in Shiro’s jaw.Firm, determined.Shiro wants this, wants to help him, and it’s not just talk.And maybe, deep down, buried beneath the pain and the lies swirling in Keith’s mind, Keith wants this too. 

Keith looks back into Shiro’s eyes, sees the unbridled affection there, and for the first time in his life, he actually believes in it.Because he knows Shiro is going to hold on as long as he can; that’s just who Shiro is.When Shiro looks at him like that, like he’s someone worth fighting for…

When Shiro looks at him like that, a little piece of Keith starts to believe that he is worth fighting for too. 

“Please.”

And that’s enough.

**Author's Note:**

> Shiro loves you, baby.
> 
> I am posting this story today (09/10/2019) in honor of World Suicide Prevention Day. Approximately 80,000 people die by suicide every year. For each of these deaths, there are another 25 suicide attempts. And despite these large numbers, it’s so easy to feel alone in your struggles. It’s easy to think that no one else understands. 
> 
> I want you to know that this is not true. There are people who understand. There are people who care. There are people who want you around. There are people who want to help you through the darkness. And they might be closer than you think.
> 
> I started writing this story from a corner of darkness. While this story is not about me, it does share a lot of pieces of me and my story. Ways that I have thought before, as Keith, and ways that I want to help, as Shiro. This is a part of my experience given the fantasy ending that I wanted so badly.
> 
> This is also your story. I know that in some of my darker moments, I turned to stories like this one, looking for hope. Looking for a sign that it gets better, that someone would care if I hurt myself or if I disappeared. I intentionally left the motivation for Keith’s feelings vague so you can see yourself in him the way that I did. Stories like this gave me the courage to keep holding on until I felt safe enough to reach out on my own. I hope I can do the same for you.
> 
> Getting better is not easy. It’s a long road that I am still traveling. There are days where I feel like I backslide and lose ground, but there are also days where I come out the other side. I can look back and see how far I’ve come and how much progress I have made. I am happier for trying to be happier, even if I don’t succeed every day. And I know that I couldn’t have done it without help. 
> 
> I encourage you, if you are caught in the darkness, to reach out to someone. Show them the ugly stuff underneath rather than trying to bare the burden of your feelings on your own. Dare to believe that you are also worth fighting for. Because you are.
> 
> Shiro loves you, baby. And I do too.
> 
> Not ready to talk to someone you know? Consider using one of these resources:
> 
> Call 1-800-273-TALK to speak to the National Suicide Prevention Hotline.
> 
> Text HOME to 741741 (U.S.), 686868 (Canada), or 85258 (U.K.) to talk to the Crisis Text Line.
> 
> Visit www.twloha.com to find resources like low-cost therapy in your area.


End file.
